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Amanda, who's sitting at her desk, looks up from the trap blueprint she's been working on for the past few days, her attention being caught by the bright lights and the loud, annoying music of the Christmas commercial. They were slowly but surely getting on her damn nerves.

Sighing, she looks back at her drawing. John's talents surely rubbed off onto her. Every pencil stroke: pure perfection. Every piece of metal, every cable, every screw drawn a hundred percent detail-oriented.

Up until this point, she only ever helped John to bring his ideas on the paper and later to life. But this time, it's different. For the first time, she's inventing a trap – all by herself.

John asked if she finally wanted to try it and gave her free rein to draw whatever her creative brain comes up with. And she immediately agreed without hesitation.

Normally, she's anything but self-confident, but when it comes to their work, she knows what she's doing. There are no if's, no but's, no doubts. She's got a job to do, something John fully trusts her with, and she's gonna give it her all. This trap is gonna be her whole pride.

"STRESSED-OUT PARENTS, MAY WE HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE?

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She rolls her eyes. What a bunch of bullshit these ads are, directed at a fucked up consumer society.

As if the only thing children need in order to be happy are overpriced gifts. What's truly vital to a child's life is care, safety and, most importantly, love. How is a "Barbie Dreamhouse" gonna make a child feel happy when their actual house is a hell hole? Like it was for her. Back when she was a child, her greatest Christmas wish was that her father for ONCE wouldn't come home black-out drunk. Of course, how else could it be, that wish was never fulfilled. While other kids her age were having Christmas dinner with their parents, she was in her room, hiding from the monster that was her dad. When he came home after a long day of beers and shots at the local bar, he was drunk out of his mind, which made him unpredictable - but always violent. He yelled, spat, shoved, kicked, slapped, punched-

"IIIIIIT'S THE MOST WOOOONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEEEEAR!" it shrills out of the TV.

Amanda breaks the pencil out of anger.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" she yells, grabbing the remote control and turning the TV off. Now that the dark memories of her childhood found their way back into her mind, she couldn't bear listening to any more pseudo jolly music.

What is there to celebrate anyways? Now she's not dealing with an abusive family anymore, quite the contrary, now that she's finally with someone she feels safe with, she's gonna lose him.

Just when the thought of John crossed her mind, he's standing in the door.

"Hey, already done with your nap?", she asks, hoping he doesn't notice the tear buildup in her eyes from her flashback episode.

"It's been long enough. There's still a lot of work to do."

His gaze turned to Amanda's blueprint. He picks it up and his eyes study it like a computer for half a minute.

"Wow. I'm impressed!.

"Really? Is it good?"

"Very good. And extraordinarily creative. Not that I expected anything else from you!", he smiles, noticing her cheeks reddening.

Quick, change of topic…

"Would you do me a favor? The fridge is almost empty, would you be so kind to do the grocery shopping?"

"Oh yeah, of course!"

He hands her the shopping list after she quickly put on her hooded sweatshirt and her Grunge boots.

"I'll hurry, promise. Will you be fine while I'm gone? If you start feeling unwell, call me, I'll be there immediately!"

"Don't worry about me, Amanda, I'll be okay.", he reassures her.

She smiles as she makes her way out the huge metal door of their lair.

He always worried about her whenever she left, even though her identity as the great helper of the "Jigsaw killer" isn't known…yet.

He still has reasons to assume the worst. In the beginning, the weeks after her test, people stared at her on the streets because the media spread her survivor story over every channel imaginable, making her into a spectacle for the society and their voyeuristic tendencies.

The press even went as far as to obnoxiously chase her, take pictures of her and try to interview her – the first survivor of a trap. In a morbid way, she was something like a celebrity to them.

She never enjoyed the attention, though. She wanted to come to terms with her life-changing experience in her own time, without having any spotlight on her.

John gave his first and only survivor time to process it a bit before confronting her and looking after her. He wanted to see how she's doing, if her test has changed her perspective on life as he hoped it would. When she said "Yes.", a weight fell off his chest. Yes, thank god, his methods do work. And Amanda was the first one to realize that.

Neither of them expected that, months later, they would live together. Amanda could've chosen to run, to push John away and to tell on him, but no. She decided to stay, to join him on his quest to change humanity for the better. She decided to understand him and open up to him and vice versa.

And John was so glad that things happened the way they did.

Since Amanda entered his life, things…don't feel as lonely and empty anymore. Of course, before her, he already had his mission that gave his remaining days purpose, but now that she's in his life, he finally found someone who gets him, who sees him as a human being instead of the "infamous, cruel Jigsaw killer", who selflessly listens and cares about him. He hasn't felt that since he got divorced from Jill. His whole life went downhill, and it kinda still does because hell, he's dying, but with Amanda, it just all feels more bearable. She's a true gift.

He sighs, rubbing his hands together. Time to get to work…He had to get Amanda out of the lair this time, therefore the shopping task. She isn't supposed to see what he has planned right now.

Amanda has arrived at the store, going through the list.

"What does John need flour for?", she asks herself. Nevermind. Finish the job, ask questions later.

•Cheese

•Milk

•Eggs

•Jam

•Salt

•Butter

•Oil

•Pasta

•Cinnamon

•Bread

•Salad

•Tomatoes

•Tape

•Cord

The last two things are surely gonna be used for their next game player…

Luckily, she's already finished with the grocery part, so she walks up to the non-food section to get the tape and cord John asked for.

A couple stands in front of the shelf next to her. They're looking at Christmas balls and lights.

"Look, how about these, babe?"

"Oh my God, yes! They'd fit perfectly to our tree. I love them, darling."

They smile at each other and share a passionate kiss. Amanda looks down, a sudden mixture of sadness and jealousy washes over her. She hated Christmas and the forced happiness that comes with the holiday, yet she couldn't help but mourn the happy Christmas memories she never had the opportunity to have. She doesn't want to admit it, she wants to act like she doesn't care but deep down…She actually wants to have a merry Christmas, she wants to celebrate it. She wants to bake Christmas cookies, she wants to decorate the living room and the Christmas tree, she wants to drink hot chocolate while watching Christmas movies and snuggle up next to her partner under a cozy blanket. She wants the whole sweet, happy Christmas experience that she never had.

But with John being terminally ill and their focus constantly being on their work - sketching, building traps, getting information on test subjects, kidnapping said test subjects - there's barely any time to eat or sleep, let alone for Christmas celebrations. And while she understood John, how important this work is to him…Sometimes she wishes she could life a normal life with him, without the blood and guts.

She sighs, knowing that there's nothing she can do about it. It is what it is.

A short glimpse on her wristwatch tells her it's already much much later than she expected. She panics, images of John getting a coughing fit or a seizure and falling to the floor with no one there to help him pop into her mind. It may seem unrealistic, but with his cancer, you never know. He could be fine one minute and flatline the next.

She hurries to the cash register. It always embarrasses her that she has to pay with John's money, more or less living under his "roof" for free. But well, there's not much choice. She's been in jail, which is never a good look on a résumé. She tried to get jobs, but after her time behind bars, obviously no one wanted a convicted drug addict in their company. If they'd only know she was actually framed and innocently put away…

Minutes later, Amanda returns to the lair, two completely filled up bags in her hands.

"John?", she calls out. No reply.

"John?...John…?"

Silence.

She drops the bags and runs all the way to the main hall of the immensely huge lair, in which you could easily lost if you didn't know it as well as Amanda does.

"John where…" she begins before she's suddenly tounge-tied with surprise.

There is…A huge Christmas tree standing in the middle of the hall! String lights hanging down from left to right of the ceiling! Gleaming stars on the shelves! Her home has transformed from an old lair to a little Christmas wonderland.

"Wha-?", she gasps.

"Do you like it?", a voice right behind her. A voice she would recognize among billions of others.

She turns around to see a brightly smiling John, a Santa hat covering his hair that have thinned out quite a lot thanks to the cancer.

"John…How? When?", she says, visibly stunned by the beautiful decoration.

"Well I had to get you out of here somehow, or else it wouldn't have been a surprise. Have I succeeded?", he laughs.

"It's…It's PERFECT!", she yells out, her heart pounding out of her chest from excitement.

"I'm glad you like it. I thought that you deserve a few days off after all of the hard work you're putting in every single day. You deserve to have a normal, happy Christmas. And I would like to spend it with you, if you'd allow me?"

Her previous smile now turns into a full-blown grin.

"Yes! YES! God YES!", she screams. Before he had the chance to reply, she jumps into his arms without warning, hugging him tightly. He closes his eyes, enjoying the softness and enchanting smell of her beautiful, chocolate brown hair. He hasn't felt the warmth of hugs for a long time…Well, until Amanda came along. She was a great hugger, it always feels like she's absorbing some of his pain whenever he's in her embrace.

"Thank you…", she whispers, and he can hear the emotion in it, even a soft sense of her crying, without having to see her facial expression. From what she has told him up until this point, she never had a normal childhood, a normal adulthood, a normal life and any of the usual holiday experiences others view as a given. She's been lonely for long enough, he wants to change that for her. At least for a few days, he wants her to feel like a normal citizen who is being loved and cared about during this important time of the year.

I did most of the decoration by myself to surprise you but I wanted to wait with to hang the Christmas balls up…Care to lend me a hand?, he asks, winking.

"Are you kidding me? Give me the box, immediately!", she laughs.

"Okay, but before…", he walks over to a carton that he placed onto a chair, pulling out two more Santa hats.

"No decorating without this!"

She giggles as he puts it onto her head.

"Wait, who's the third one for?", she asks, raising her eyebrow.

"Well, I had Mark in mind, but I'm assuming he's gonna decline so…"

Amanda rolls her eyes. The last thing she wants to see this Christmas is Mark fucking Hoffman. She's seen enough cocky police officers for five lifetimes, he can piss off.

"Hmm…I have an idea who would appreciate your gift!", she says, smiling. No way she's gonna let Hoffman wear a hat from John. He doesn't deserve shit.

"Be right back!", she yells while making her way to a different room.

When she returns, she's got a little friend in her arms…Black tuxedo, red bow-tie, white gloves, red, sparkly shoes, white face, black sclera and red iris. And his black hair is covered with…A Santa hat.

"I think it suits him really well, doesn't it?", she giggles.

"Amanda Young, has anyone ever told you that you're an absolutely unique specimen?", he chuckles. She just has the best ideas and always knows how to make him laugh.

"Well, what can I say, I'm just special and one-of-a-kind", she sarcastically states, jokingly throwing her hair like some arrogant diva.

"You certainly are. And I bet that gentleman on your arm agrees", he says, pointing at the puppet.

"Oh yes, Amanda is amaaaazing. I've neeeever felt prettier! It's a welcomed chaaaange, imagine wearing nothing but that boooooring suiiiit every day!", a high-pitched voice combined with a movable jaw as an attempt of hers to make the puppet talk.

"You look fantastic indeed, Mr. …What was your name again?"

Amanda's eyes widen…Quick, a name for the puppet, now!

"Uhmmm…I'm…My name is…is…BILLY!", it squeaks.

"Billy? For real?", he raises an eyebrow, chuckling.

"I mean…He does look like a Billy, don't you think?", Amanda asks.

"Well, okay, then it's official: From now on, our ventriloquist's dummy and messenger is called "Billy"!

They both can't stop laughing, even when they're finished with the Christmas balls.

"It looks gorgeous.", Amanda's eyes glitter.

"It does. Especially now that it's getting dark, the lights stand out beautifully. Tomorrow we'll continue with our Christmas preparation."

"You have more planned?"

"Patience, you'll see", he winks at her...